


Mourning on Tatooine

by Blue_fantasy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Dyad (Star Wars), Force Ghost Leia Organa, Force Ghost Luke Skywalker, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Tatooine (Star Wars), The Force
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:49:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_fantasy/pseuds/Blue_fantasy
Summary: Warning: Rise of Skywalker spoilers, do not keep reading if you haven't seen itRey finally takes the time to deal with her emotions after killing her grandfather and losing the other half of her Force Dyad.Rewatching and reading Star Wars content and seeing where this thing takes me. Your suggestions and comments are welcome.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Rey, Rey & Luke Skywalker, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Love

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Rise of Skywalker spoilers
> 
> Rewatching and reading Star Wars content and seeing where this thing takes me. Your suggestions and comments are welcome.
> 
> Because I need to deal with my feelings after watching Episode 9. Because Rey isn't a droid, she has feelings other than happiness. Because Rey is really young and has a lot more life left to live. Did they just set us up for another Skywalker trilogy in 20 years? Goodness, gracious.
> 
> And while I have been a diehard fan of Star Wars for almost 40 years (since my earliest memories), I truly only know what is in the 3 film trilogies and Rogue One and Solo. So please give me a break if I accidentally use the Force improperly. 😆This writing is mainly to process how I feel about episode 9.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey sees a ghost as she confronts the hurt she has boxed up in the back of her mind.

Cobwebs filled with dust dangled from the arched ceiling above her. She could see years, decades of sandy dust resting on the ridges of the textured wall beside the bed where she lay, arms resting up along her head, palms underneath, sleep still evading her.

She had come here to put the Skywalker legacy to rest, burying her mentors' sabers in the sand of their father's family. In doing so, she realized they could never be forgotten and deserved to be remembered by someone. And so, the girl with no name but that of a monster claimed the name of her master, the closest to a father she ever had.

She had not planned on staying, even for a night. But there was something comforting in the way the desert winds wrapped around her like arms holding her. Seeing Luke and Leia's Force ghosts together for the first time had stirred that desire for a home, a place to belong. And so, she turned from the old woman who had asked her name and set about claiming the ancestral home of the name and the family she had just chosen as her own.

As she explored the rooms of the cave-like home, she found one room in particular that echoed with her master's Force signature. This must have been his room. She went to task dusting off surfaces and righting furniture in the small but cozy space. Certain items would send flashes of moments into her mind's eye. She was feeling even more connected to her old master.

Eventually her muscles ached and she could feel that her body was physically exhausted, needing rest. As she lay on the small bed, just barely the right length for her body, enough for her, she wished for sleep to come. But it did not. Her mind was restless. It was telling her she had unfinished business to deal with. It was not business of the physical world, but of her emotions, feelings. She had used her strength in the Force to box them up and shove them away in the back of her mind. Now, as she lay here, trying hard to create a list of physical tasks to accomplish on the farm the next day, her mind or maybe the Force, kept tugging her towards those boxes, packed away.

"It will not get any easier." She heard a familiar voice, deep and caring, strong and motherly.

Rey sprang up straight to sit, brushing her head against the dusty walls, sand sifting through her hair and onto her face. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and ran her hands over her face to remove the dust.

As she opened her eyes back up, she saw Leia's Force ghost sitting on the dusty chair across the room, looking at her with sadness and compassion in her expression.

"The longer you wait. It will not be easier."

The realness of Leia in front of her is overwhelming. The intimacy of her words, the feeling as if she is actually sitting there in her physical form observing Rey, observing her actions and yet, also observing her thoughts, her struggles within her mind.

She knew her master was visited by his masters after their deaths. But Leia hadn't been her master, or had she? 

"Official titles do not link a user of the Force with those who are now one with the Force. Love. Love is what binds us together. I was able to see Ben Kenobi and my father, though neither were ever my Jedi master. I saw them because they loved me," she paused. "And I loved them in return."

Rey continued to stare at Leia's form, speechless, feeling, knowing she was to listen to the knowledge Leia was imparting.

"More often than not, the ones you loved will appear when you need their knowledge, their advice, their support, their guidance, their comfort."

It was almost as if Rey did not even need to speak, Leia anticipating her questions before they are even fully developed in her mind.

"You are not alone, Rey. We will be here when you need us most. And right now, you need me."

Rey swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped off onto the floor, grabbing her robe hanging nearby, wrapping it around her body to stave off some of the cold of the desert night. She slowly walked over to Leia, looking over every detail of the blue glowing figure, her hair, her robes, the fabric. She sat in a meditative pose with her legs crossed at the Force ghost's feet. Feeling the threadbare rug against her skin, brief flashes of a young Luke fiddling with R2D2 projecting a blue holo of a young Leia. Rey shook her head again and looked intently up at her mentor.

Leia smiled down at her, sad and lovingly.

"When Han died, I felt it through the Force. He may have not been Force sensitive, but I was and my love for him was so deep, the bond so strong, I felt his death as if I was dying myself. And in the same moment I felt my son's pain. The pain in what he had just done."

Rey flinched at the mention of Ben. Leia reached out a hand toward her, palm hovering at the side of the girl's cheek. Her gaze more intense and empathetic than before, as if she knows something that Rey has not quite figured out.

"In that moment, the feelings were all too much for me to bear. So, I tucked them away, boxed them up into the back of my mind with my feelings of losing my son to the dark side and losing my husband to his wanderlust. I had military operations to run, men and women whose lives I was responsible for. Who were looking to me for leadership and guidance. I thought I had no time in the moment to grieve. I thought it would be easier to grieve after. But now I wonder, after what?"

Rey was beginning to understand the reason for Leia's visit.

"Part of Jedi training is learning to separate yourself from human emotions such as love and friendship, trying to prevent yourself from caring so much about another individual that it could interfere with doing what is best for the greater good. It is a skill I never fully attained in my brief Jedi training, knowing my love for Han and our friends and family would always be too strong. But as those I loved most, Han and Ben and Luke, separated themselves physically from me, I used my training as well as my instincts to block out the hurt and the sadness."

Leia once again raised her hand to Rey's face. She stood up and walked over to Rey's rucksack, looking down at it. The girl could swear she saw a smile across the ghost's face.

"Open the boxes, my girl. Open them and we will speak again."

And just as quick as she had appeared, she was gone, leaving Rey sitting on the floor, in the dark, alone. Yet Rey did not feel alone. She was beginning to realize she would never truly feel alone, in the sad aching way she had felt all those years on Jakku.

A question began to form in the back of Rey's mind. She quickly sprung up from the rug and traced Leia's steps to her rucksack. She looked down at the open bag and there poking out from between her own clothes was the black fabric sleeve of something she had hidden in the bottom, something to deal with later, pushed to the bottom of her bag like the feelings pushed to the back of her mind.

She touched the soft black fabric and immediately felt it, felt the Force calling her to dig deeper. She slid her hand down between all that was squeezed into her bag and ran her fingers and palm along the thin knitted sweater. Small shocks of electricity prickling her skin, flash of a smile, feel of a touch, press of a kiss.

Slowly she slid the thin sweater out of the bag and wrapped her arms around it, holding it tightly to her chest. The burning tears at the back of her eyes now fully unleashed, dripping down her cheeks, onto her robe, her hands, his shirt.

The release was immense. It overwhelmed her senses and she found her way back to the small bed, laying on her side, curling her body around his shirt, the sleeve pulled up to her lips, her nose. And as she inhaled the scent of his sweat and blood, she allowed herself to succumb to the images and feelings, memories of her own, memories belonging to him, and dreams of a future they will never have, one they didn't realize they wanted until it was too late.

She lay on a pillow soaked wet with her tears, aching sobs releasing from deep within her, so loud, it had to be echoing out of the home and across the desert. She could feel the Force carrying her sadness out for the wind to take on its wings, like a message of solidarity to all those who lost someone they loved in this great and terrible war.

Deep into her grief, she felt a beacon of light, a hope that her cries might be heard by someone in particular. She had loved him, after all, hadn't she? So why had he not come to her yet? Leia said all it took was mutual love. Had he not loved her?

"Of course, I loved you."


	2. Dreams, Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben visits Rey in her dreams as she embarks on restoring the moisture farm and deals with Luke's memories of the homestead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the "meal" scene of Rey in her AT-AT on Jakku at the beginning of "The Force Awakens" as well as scenes of Luke living on the moisture farm with his aunt and uncle at the beginning of "A New Hope".
> 
> Your suggestions and comments are welcome. Thanks for reading. 😊

Rey launched up once again from the small bed, this time anticipating the sight of a ghostly figure. Hope fluttered deep inside her, a shimmer of sorrowful happiness glinting in her mind.

Instead, she found only a dark empty room, barely lit by a sliver of moonlight coming through the doorway from the courtyard. She turned her head leaning out over the edge of the bed, straining her eyes to make out shapes in the blackness, knowing there was nothing to be seen, yet not wanting to leave it to chance that she may have missed something.

The loneliness that had momentarily dissipated washed back over her with the thunderous roar of silence, like a wave crashing onto the rocks of the island on Ahch-To. She looked down at the fabric entangled with her arms and slowly began to rearrange the shirt, pulling it over her head, letting it soak up the tears she had no energy to hold back any longer. She slid her arms into the sleeves, her hands never finding the ends, leaving it that way, bunching the excess fabric into her fists and pressing them to her eyes.

She was trying to open up her mind, trying to open those boxes as Leia told her to. Why was she so scared? She had dealt with heartbreaking pain all her life, how was this different? And why isn't it enough for him to come to her?

Gradually she slid back down under her blanket on her side, knees were drawn up to her aching stomach, resting her head onto the small flat pillow she had brought in from the bunk on the _Falcon_ , briefly remembering the little pillow she had scrimped and saved for on Jakku. Her fists remained pressed over her eyes until sleep finally came to her.

Just as her mind slipped into a dream, she thought she felt something wrap across and over her back and shoulders, thinking it must be more dream than reality, it did not scare her. In that embrace, she didn't feel quite so alone.

☆

For the first time in a long time, since before Exegol, before Kef Bir, maybe for the first time ever, she was sleeping for more than a handful of hours, in peace. The sadness was there, everywhere in her mind, but it was more like a warm blanket now than the sharp stabbing of a knife she had felt since--since he--since he died, leaving her to feel as if a limb had been cut off.

Thoughts and images drifted by in her mind, searching for a happy thought and soon she found herself sitting outside her AT-AT on Jakku, watching the sunset, a full portion on her plate, desert breeze through her hair. She closed her eyes and leaned back, tilting her head toward the desert sky, letting the winds cool her skin after the long day in the sun. A feeling of self-satisfaction brings a moment of pleasantness to her mind. That day’s haul had been one of her best since she began scavenging the Imperial wreckage surrounding Niima Outpost. This had been one of the happier moments of her life, a life filled with very few. It was a meal she enjoyed just a few years after arriving on Jakku, the most filling meal she could remember from her desert life. She must have been 7 or 8 years old, never knowing exactly how old she was, but always knowing exactly how many days she had been on the planet thanks to the tally she began the day she had wandered from the outpost to find shelter from a sandstorm and Unkar Plutt, finding herself a refuge to wait for her parents' return.

But they would never return, her voice reminds her in the background, and not because they didn't love her. Not because they didn't want her. But because they had been killed trying to protect her from her own grandfather. As a nightmarish image of the man flashed before her, she directed herself back to that satisfying meal sitting in the sand so long ago.

As she finished her meal, she vaguely remembers looking up from her plate to see a boy in the distance walking toward her over the dunes. She often saw mirages in the desert, especially during her long hot exhausting days trekking through the dunes. But this seemed different. She sat up straight and set her plate down at her side, sliding her hand back through the sand to where her staff laid behind her, wrapping her fingers around it. She remembers feeling slightly afraid of this figure at first, unsure if he was good or bad. She remembers her young childish mind thinking in those simple black and white terms.

No one comes out here, she thought to herself. She specifically liked this place as her home because hardly anyone came out here, this AT-AT having been stripped bare for over a decade.

The boy, an older boy, many years older than her, keeps walking in her direction, looking right at her. He was definitely still a boy but not far off from manhood, dressed how she imagined a Jedi knight might dress, in a simple tunic, loose pants, and a long robe, all his layers some shade of brown or black, just like the drunken scavengers would describe in their stories near the trading post after a long day in the desert. The boy in front of her was tall and gangly, a thick head of black wavy hair atop his head, that doesn't seem to be moving with the desert breeze. How strange, she thinks to herself.

Maybe this is a dream. Wait, this is a dream, her voice reminds her somewhere in the depths of her consciousness.

She continues to grip her staff behind her as she watches the boy approach. His face becomes more clear to her, his expression one of wonder, curiosity, and then recognition, a small smile comes to his lips. His dark eyes seem to sparkle.

Sure enough, she notices a lightsaber at his belt. He _is_ a Jedi. And as she squints to better determine if he is a threat with the weapon at his side, there is a recollection in her own mind. She finds his face familiar, the smile familiar. She stands to greet the boy.

"Rey," he says as he picks up his pace in the sand, closing in on her, a smile still across his face.

How does he know her name? But wait, she knows his name.

"Ben?", she asks the boy even though she is sure that is his name.

"It is you. Of course, it's you," he speaks as he stops an arms-length from her as she looks up at him, his ears sticking out of his wild hair, freckles dotted across his cheekbones.

_So young_ , she thinks to herself.

"I've been trying to reach you, to talk to you."

"Ben." She says again, smiling up with wonder at the boy in front of her.

"Rey," said as he reached out toward her and as his fingertips touched her cheek, she was suddenly yanked from the moment, pulled away as if on a ship exiting hyperspace.

☆

For the third time, she is jolted out of her sleep, hopping up off the bed, her bare feet feeling the shock of the cold cave floor through the worn rug. She grabs her lightsaber and quickly the room is illuminated with its yellow glow.

But this time she is not looking around for a ghost. She is trying to process her dream or memory or whatever that just was.

She lights the lantern at her bedside and grabs the journal from her rucksack. Quickly, she scrawls out all she can remember--his age, his clothes, his eyes, his words as well as her own age in the memory, her feeling and thoughts.

Had she seen Ben before Takodana? Was that a real memory? Obviously, that was not all memory. She would have remembered a Jedi knight visiting her on Jakku and knowing her name. But his young face was familiar, like her younger self had seen this boy version of Ben before. Had the Force brought them together before, throughout her life? 

Her heart was beating fast, pounding in her ears. What did this mean? Why hasn't she seen Ben's Force ghost yet? How is he able to reach her in her dreams? Was that really him trying to reach her? Or just a hopeful creation from her own mind?

She could still feel his touch on her cheek, like the prick of static electricity. What did he want?

Her mind was racing and she needed to refocus. Glancing at the list she had created in her journal and knowing the sun would be up soon, Rey set to getting dressed and digging into fixing some stuff, hoping it would help.

☆

The Lars Homestead was an abandoned moisture farm out on a salt flat amongst the barren landscape of Tatooine. Decades of desolation and disuse evident by the drifts of sand pouring over the courtyard like ocean waves trying to reclaim driftwood on the shore, objects that had once been buried under its surface being returned to its depths.

Luke had led Rey to this place. There was a comfort he must have known she needed, a comfort in the desert heat and isolation, so much like Jakku. And while she rarely found happiness in her memories of her home planet, the familiarity now was like a hot cup of tea soothing a soar throat, a hot compress soothing a soar muscle.

She had only planned to go there to bury the Skywalker legacy, to honor the family that saved her, that loved and cared for her like no one else had in her life. But when that woman asked who she was and she found herself claiming the name she thought had died for good on Exegol, she found a desire to keep them alive. As she turned away from the old woman, to look upon the half buried farm, she became determined, resolute in a desire to keep the sand dunes at bay and preserve this place. Why, she did not know. But she knew deep inside that she must.

And now she found herself standing on the rim above the courtyard, watching the twin suns rise over the flats. First things first, see if this place could still be a functioning farm. And off she trudged to find all the vaporators.

☆

"Yes!" She exclaimed in symphonic excitement with BB-8's joyous bleeps. With a rare smile on her face, she turned to the droid, patting him gently.

They had been working on the main vaporator in the center of the courtyard for hours. After she had climbed around the farm land using a combination of the Force and Luke's memories he was feeding into her mind, she located the bulk of the farming vaporators, most seeming to be able to become fully operational again, with a little or maybe a lot of elbow grease. She then decided to start with the one she would need for her survival, the one that supplied the home with water.

And with that successfully up and running, it was time to check the kitchen and 'fresher, making sure the receiving end of the water supply was functional.

It felt good to have a list of small, obtainable goals. Tasks she knew she could accomplish that required her hands and mind to keep busy and focused. Focused on tangible things, unemotional things.

As she puttered around the kitchen, she heard a deep grumble roll through her belly and she knew she couldn't put off eating any longer. She grabbed one of the ration packs she had brought in from the _Falcon_ , a crate of them now sitting on the sand and soot covered counter.

There was no longer any functional furniture in this room and she could see signs of a fire extinguished long ago. Climbing up the steps and into the cave that opened up to the courtyard, she sat in a meditative pose on the floor and began to eat, observing her surroundings. 

Above her on the ceiling under the black soot, she could see a rust colored mural peeking out. This space must have been a formal dining area, being centrally located, the kitchen just beyond, and this decoration above her. This was a public space in the home, a space seen by anyone who would visit. And it was the only room where she had found evidence of non-functional decoration.

Soon, she found herself watching Luke sitting at the table looking out across at who she assumed were his aunt and uncle. She saw the way his aunt looked at him, with love and compassion. Just as a pin prick of jealousy began to stab at her heart, she felt Luke's sorrow wrap around the memory. Suddenly, a horrific flash of a burned and black smoking corpse flashed before her and she was jolted out of her daydream.

She felt his pain deep inside her own heart. This place held dark stories, sitting, waiting for the sand to be swept back, exposing truth and heartache. Rey wasn't sure she was ready for this. Ready for more emotional pain.

She shook her head, took the last bite from her ration pack, and hopped up to her feet.

"BB-8, come on. We need to head into town for some parts to get the 'fresher up and running." The droid came rolling around the corner, bleeping in agreement. They headed off to the room where she had found some old speeders hoping she could get at least one of them operating.

As she crossed the courtyard, relaxed and happy with the satisfaction of a good morning's work, she felt a pull in her mind, a humming along a cord she had tucked away.

"I need to talk to you."


End file.
